Opposite of Always(83)

“So, you love her.”

“I don’t not love her.”

Jillian is harder to convince, though.

She wants to know why I’m making the trip to Dr. Sowunmi’s hospital.

Or why I’m suddenly so interested in sickle cell disease.

Or what we’re going to do if Franny actually gets into Whittier.

And who’s going to take his place in the band?

All of which are very good questions.

All of which I have a hard time answering.





The Talk


We’re driving to school when Jillian tells me.

“Franny says he needs to talk to me.”

“When?”

“After school.”

“Today?”

“Today.”

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

“Should I be there, too?”

“I’m thinking no.”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t want to aggravate the situation any more than it has to be, you know?”

“No, yeah, of course. That makes sense.”

“So, you okay finding a ride home? After school?”

“Sure.”

I spend the rest of the day going to class but learning nothing, except how to be good at thinking about Jillian talking to Franny about the fact that we betrayed his trust and got together behind his back.

“How did it go?” I ask as soon as she descends my basement stairs.

“We hurt him, Jack.”

“Yeah.”

“No,” she says, picking up a throw pillow from the couch, sitting down in its place. “We really hurt him.”

“What did he say?”

“Not much actually. It was mostly me apologizing. And then at the end he looked at me and said, I don’t think you’ll ever understand how much I loved you both.”

That’s not what I expected. I feel like I’ve been stabbed all over. “Damn,” I say. “And what did you say to that?”

Jillian shakes her head. “Nothing. I just sat there hating myself. And then he took my hand in his and said, All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. And I still want that.”

“I feel like this is the part where I should be led out in front of the firing squad.”

“You and me both,” Jillian agrees. “And we’d still get off easy.”





An Exploding Appendix


Jillian and I are at the hospital together, visiting her cousin, whose appendix nearly ruptured, when The Most Random Person I’d Ever Expect to See Anywhere on Earth steps right onto the elevator and commands, “Sixth floor, bro.”

Normally, I’m not big on elevator eye contact. The premise of an elevator is uncomfortable enough—standing silent and motionless in a cramped rectangular box centimeters away from random strangers?

But also this guy’s voice. The way he says bro instead of please, like it’s my job to do his bidding, like I’m working this elevator and I’ve been sitting here with my button-pressing finger extended, eagerly waiting for an asshole to order a floor.

I recognize him right away, but of course he has no reason to know me. And even if he did know me, he strikes me as the kind of dude who goes around being recognized but can’t be bothered to remember your name, or even how he knows you. So instead he bros you.

But I admit I’m biased.

I snap my fingers. “Hey, aren’t you . . .” and I start to say Flanders or Sanders as bro payback, but I’m actually so happy to see this guy I can’t even bring myself to be petty. “You go to Whittier, right?” I say.

And Xander looks up at me from his phone.

“Do I know you?” Xander asks.

“No, I’ve seen you around campus is all.”

Without a word, Xander goes back to swiping his phone screen.

“So, what, uh, brings you here?” I ask.

“What?”

“What brings you to the hospital? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s great. I’m here for the fish tacos.”

I scrunch my face. “Wait, what?”

“Screwing with you, dude, relax. My girlfriend is sick, so.”

“Oh, she’s admitted here?”

“Yep.”

“Is she going to be okay?”

Xander shrugs. “This is nothing new for her. She’s practically lived in hospitals her entire life. I think she’s used to it now.”

“I feel like that’s something you’d never be used to.”

“I guess.” Xander buries his face back into his phone. “I need to be studying right now, but I have to be here. Gotta be the doting, supportive boyfriend.”

“You don’t.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to be anything to her. No one’s forcing you to be here.”

“Ha. You try dumping the sick girl.”

And by now you guys know I’m not a fighter.

But I promise you it takes every ounce of restraint that I have ever accumulated past, present, and future to not dump Xander on his fish-taco-joking ass.

But then I remember: I have also dumped the sick girl.